Page 15

Chapter fifteen

Micah

N oah laughed like the cold had knocked something loose inside him. We stomped our way inside the cabin, covered in snowmelt, our boots kicking slush onto the mat.

I watched Noah shrug out of his coat, shoulders flexing beneath the borrowed flannel. His hair was damp at the ends, sticking up in chaotic tufts like he'd just been in a fight, and his cheeks were red from the wind. He looked alive in a way that made my pulse race.

He laughed again, quieter this time, half to himself. The sound burrowed its way under my ribs, sharp and unexpected.

"Fuck, that lake." Noah dragged fingers through his hair. "You really don't remember how much your ankles hate you until you're ten minutes in."

I nodded, throat dry. I couldn't speak yet.

He turned toward the extinguished fire, and I followed without thinking.

I didn't mean to back him up, but I did. His breath caught in his throat—for a second, maybe less.

I grabbed his right wrist, holding it firmly. Skin to skin, heat to heat. Noah's pulse was rapid under my thumb, but he didn't flinch. Didn't pull away.

He looked up at me like he'd been waiting for this moment, knowing it would come.

I didn't say anything. Words would've been wrong. It would have felt like writing poetry with a clenched fist.

Instead, I stepped forward, inch by inch, closing the gap between us until there was nowhere else to go.

Noah's spine crashed into the wall. The flannel shifted against the rough wood. His lips parted slightly, and his eyes didn't blink.

I waited. He could've ducked and said no. Instead, he tipped his chin up.

I raised my free hand slowly, deliberately, giving him every chance to stop me. My fingers brushed against his throat, feeling the rapid pulse beneath my touch. I applied gentle pressure, my gaze locked onto his, watching for any sign of discomfort or resistance.

Noah's breath hitched, but he didn't look away. His eyes, wide and trusting, held mine as he leaned into the touch. He squirmed briefly. His slight struggle for breath sent a rush of heat through me.

I squeezed tighter, pushing the delicate balance of power and trust. Noah's hands came up to grip my wrist, not to pull away, but to hold on, to anchor himself. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, his eyes never leaving mine.

I leaned in, brushing my lips against his jawline. His warm breath brushed my cheek, and his body trembled.

It was a dance of sorts, a silent conversation where words were unnecessary. I eased the pressure, allowing him to take a deeper breath before tightening my grip again, feeling the squirm, the struggle, and the trust.

Noah's eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping his lips. The sound sent a shiver up my spine. I released my grip, my hand touching his cheek, my thumb brushing gently against the reddened skin.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, lips still parted like he'd been bracing for more than this. Like he'd been expecting something worse. Or something better.

Our eyes locked. I didn't blink. I didn't need to. Neither did he.

My breath dragged across the side of his throat as I leaned in—not touching, just letting the heat of it spill across the curve of his jaw, the place where the skin was thin and the nerves ran hot. His pulse leaped, causing a twitch beneath the surface, and I stayed where I was, letting him feel it, letting him need the contact.

He tilted his head, exposing more of his neck like a dare.

I could've broken the moment wide open. I could've taken the opportunity. He wouldn't have stopped me.

But I waited.

And then he whispered it. Right against my shoulder. So quiet I almost missed it.

"Don't stop. Not this time."

Raw desire surged inside me at his words, a primal need that demanded to be satisfied. I released his wrist, my hand moving to grip his hip firmly, pulling him closer. He gasped softly as our bodies pressed together, the heat between us intensifying.

Leaning in, my teeth grazed the sensitive skin just below his ear. He shivered, a low moan escaping his lips as I bit down gently, marking him. His fingers dug into my shoulders, nails biting into the fabric of my shirt.

I trailed rough kisses down his throat, my stubble scraping against his skin, leaving a trail of red in its wake. He squirmed against me, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His heart pounded against my chest, matching the rhythm of my own.

My hands moved to his shoulders, gripping the flannel tightly before pushing it down his arms, trapping them at his sides. He struggled briefly, a soft whimper escaping his lips, but I held him firmly in place. I leaned back, my eyes raking over his exposed, smooth chest, taking in the rise and fall of his breath and the flush of his skin.

One of my hands traveled down Noah's abs, and I eventually found the outline of his cock in his jeans. I gripped his balls in my fist and squeezed enough that he could feel it. Enough to make sure heknewthis wasn't pretend.

His body jerked, and for a second, I waited. Watched his face.

He didn't flinch.

"Fuck," Noah rasped. "Micah, please."

I reached out, my fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, the curve of his collarbone. He shivered under my touch, his eyes never leaving mine. I saw the trust there, the desire and the need for more.

I inclined my head down to his chest, teeth scraping over his nipple, causing him to arch into the touch. I bit down. He cried out, his body trembling as I soothed the sting with my tongue.

The flannel fell to the floor as I released his arms and spun him around, face to the wall. My body covered his, my hips grinding against him while I gripped his wrists, pinning them above his head. He struggled briefly, testing my hold.

"Is this what you want?" I growled, my voice low and rough. He nodded, his breath coming in quick gasps.

"Say it," I demanded.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "This is what I want. Don't stop."

I growled low in my throat, releasing his wrists and spinning him back around to face me. His eyes were wild; his cheeks flushed, and his lips parted. I captured his mouth in a rough, demanding kiss, our teeth clashing, our tongues battling. He tasted like desire and need, and I couldn't get enough.

I broke the kiss, my hand lifting before I could second-guess my impulse. A slap landed sharp against his cheek, the brutal sound reverberating in the silent room.

He gasped.

My chest clenched. He wanted this. Needed the edge. So did I.

My hands moved down to his jeans. I popped the button open and yanked down the zipper. Noah gasped as I roughly stripped his jeans down his legs, taking his briefs with them. He stepped out of them, kicking them aside, his body now fully exposed.

I took a moment to admire him, my eyes raking over his lean muscles, the curve of his hips, and his hard cock standing at full attention. He was beautiful. I didn't know what I'd done to deserve him, but I wasn't letting go.

I pushed him back towards the couch, a low roar in my throat. He fell back onto the cushions, his eyes never leaving mine. I followed him down, my body covering his as I captured his mouth in another fierce kiss.

I ground my hips against him, feeling his hardness against my own. His body arched up into mine, and he gripped his shoulders with his hands.

I broke the kiss, pushing myself up onto my knees. I reached for the drawer in the coffee table, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. Noah's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't say a word, only watching as I slicked my fingers up.

I reached down, my fingers finding his hole. He gasped, his body tensing slightly as I circled the tight muscle, applying gentle pressure. I leaned down, capturing his mouth in a slow, deep kiss when I slipped the first finger inside him.

He moaned into my mouth, his body relaxing as I moved my finger in and out, preparing him. I added a second finger, scissoring them until he grunted and his body jerked.

I broke the kiss, sitting back on my heels as I rolled the condom down my length. Noah's eyes were dark with desire, and a flush spread across his chest.

Yanking my cock out of my jeans, I gripped his hips, pulling him toward me while I lined myself up with his hole.

I pushed in slowly, inch by inch, feeling the tight heat of him enveloping me. Noah moaned, his entire body tensing as I filled him.

"Move," he whispered.

I rocked my hips forward and began to thrust forward and back. Picking up speed, I set a punishing pace, my body slamming into his, filling the cabin with the sound of our flesh connecting.

Noah cried out, his hands gripping the cushions while his body met mine thrust for thrust.

I leaned down, my mouth finding his neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. He moaned, his head falling back, exposing more of his throat to me. I bit down, marking him again, claiming him as mine.

Tension rose in my body, the need for release growing with each thrust. I reached down, my hand wrapping around his shaft, stroking him in time with my movements.

It didn't take long. He cried out, his body convulsing as he came, the hot liquid spilling over my hand. The sight of him sent me over the edge. I thrust into him one last time, my body shaking as an orgasm swept over me.

I collapsed on top of his body, spent, with my breath coming in quick pants. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as we rode out the aftershocks.

I pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "You're mine," I whispered, my voice soft but firm.

"Yours," he agreed, his voice barely a whisper.

Noah reached for my hand, the right one. It was the one that hurt.

He raised it to his mouth and kissed the scar near the base of my thumb. His lips were soft while his breath was still uneven.

He looked at me and bit down. It wasn't gentle. I didn't stop him.

The mark he left pulsed hot, nerves firing in every direction like the blood didn't know where to go anymore. I stared down at the teeth-print just below the scar, his bite nestled beside the memory of my father's grip from so long ago.

He'd kissed it first.

That mattered more than I wanted it to.

I didn't say anything. Neither did he.

We sprawled on the couch—me fully dressed with Noah naked beneath me. My shoulder ached more deeply now. It was a pain that would keep me up later, throbbing quietly with every movement. I didn't care.

Noah gently pushed me to the side.

I didn't ask if he was okay.

And maybe that was the point.

I gazed at him. His jaw was red where my stubble had scraped it raw, and his lips swelled in response to our intense kisses. He still had fingerprints on his wrists from when I'd held him against the wall.

He caught me staring. Didn't smile. Just nodded.

I exhaled and flexed my hand. It was the one he bit.

I liked the ache.

Noah stood up from the couch, slow and steady, his back to me as he bent over to grab his jeans. He pulled them and adjusted himself like it wasn't the most intimate thing in the world.

Before he left the room, he paused in the doorway and said, "You didn't flinch."

I didn't answer. I watched him walk away.

There was no pause. No glance over his shoulder. Only his back retreating down the hallway.

The guest room door opened and closed, and then he was gone.

The silence he left behind wasn't empty. It echoed like a room that had just been full of screams.

I didn't move right away. My hand still throbbed where he'd bit me, sharp and hot under the scar. He'd reawakened something there or maybe reclaimed it.

The air in the room tasted stale, a mix of sweat, smoke, and the sharp-metal scent of bloodless pain. I stood and headed for the hallway.

Not because I had something to say.

Something inside me wouldn't let him walk away without knowing I could still see him. I moved slowly and deliberately, letting him hear me coming if he was listening.

The guest room door was cracked open. Yellow light spilled through the gap, cutting a line across the floor like it dared me to cross it.

I did.

He sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, elbows on his knees. His hands were in his hair, holding, not tugging.

I leaned on the doorframe, not saying anything.

The floor creaked.

He didn't look at me, but his voice was steady when he spoke. "Do you ever feel like your body remembers shit before your brain does?"

It wasn't a question that needed an answer, but it deserved one.

I stared at the back of his neck and how it curved down into his shoulders. Faint red marks bloomed along the collar line, proof of my presence.

"Mine forgets," I said. "Until someone touches the right place."

He didn't move.

I continued my thought. "Then it comes back all at once."

A few beats passed before Noah lifted his head. "Is that what I am to you? The right place?"

I didn't know.

I wanted to sayno, but that might have been a lie. I also wanted to say yes , but that wasn't it either.

I didn't say anything.

Pushing off the doorframe, I stepped into the room and sat on the bed beside him. It wasn't close enough to touch.

We sat like that for a while. I looked down. His hands were shaking.

I turned my hand over. The right one. The bitten one. I left it palm-up between us, not offering anything. It was just there.

Noah glanced down. He didn't take it, but he didn't move away either.

I decided to stay.